


I Thought You'd Never Ask

by Catticus42



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Historical Teslen, Kinda, Set after they have taken the source blood, Teslen Appreciation Week 2020, oxford era, with a hint of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catticus42/pseuds/Catticus42
Summary: Helen teaches Nikola to dance.
Relationships: Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	I Thought You'd Never Ask

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my story for the first prompt "Through time." for Teslen Appreciation week. (Sorry I'm supper late.) Its rather longer than i anticipated, but hopefully you enjoy it :)

“So, when is the event to take place, James?” Helen enquired, her pen hovering over her notes. James always kept his ear to the ground when concerning social affairs; there was never a time where he wasn’t abreast of current events, or subtle developments in one’s character which suggested one ought to be suspicious.

Unfortunately it made hiding things from him an incredibly frustrating task.

“Let us hope it does not take place, at all, on the account of lack of interest,” Nikola quipped, earning an eye roll from Helen, while her lips twitched, amused.

“Then it’s lucky your hate for crowds, and social gatherings of any kind, does not reflect the rest of the university, Nikola,” she bantered back.

“I don’t hate crowds,” the Serbian replied calmly.

“No?” She rose an eyebrow, amused.

“No, it’s the individual people _within_ them, I dislike,” he replied with a smirk picking up a pair of metal tweezers as Helen shook her head with a laugh.

“And that is precisely why you are a recluse,” James pointed out with a sigh.

“Well, I find the more intelligent you are, the more selective you become,” he answered lazily. 

“Not with pigeons,” Nigel grumbled. “You let enough of them into the dorm. I found one of them nesting in my pillow, and another laid an egg in my sock!”

“And that’s quite enough about that,” Helen cut in smoothly before Nikola could unleash a particularly sharp remark. “You were saying, James?”

“Oh, yes. The event is in two days, apparently,” James replied while resting against the bench. “It seems Lord Mansfield has finally held true to his word about hosting a ball for the University.”

“I thought that was a rumor, old boy,” John murmured.

“So did I, at first, but naturally I don’t take things second hand,” his friend supplied with humor.

“And it’s about bloody time he did. If he waited any longer, he’d be dead!” Nigel exclaimed dramatically. “Besides, he has a lovely fob watch and I intend to inherit it by the end of the evening.”

“My god, you truly are a kleptomaniac,” James muttered good-naturedly.

“You just figured this out, now?” Nikola rolled his eyes. 

“Nikola, play nice,” Helen chastised gently, her hand rested on his arm for a moment as she walked around to where John was to check how the experiment was progressing.

“I am playing nice, he’s just horrible with criticism.” he countered playfully, but despite his light tone, there was an underlying tension that unsettled her.

He had been acting off all, morning. She wondered what was bothering him.

“Kleptomaniac’s a bit harsh, I prefer to think of it as a borrower of time,” Nigel proclaimed.

“Without any intention of returning it, I suppose. And, while we are on the topic, may I count on you for the first dance, Miss Magnus?” John asked charmingly, grasping her hand in his.

“Gladly,” she replied with a fond smile, as he kissed her knuckles. 

But, as she glanced away from him, she caught Nikola’s eyes, which flashed with emotion, before he returned back to his task as if nothing had happened. A steely silence masked any feeling from escaping those sharp blue orbs.

Her brow furrowed, slightly, as she observed him, while James, John, and Nigel talked the finer points of civil behavior. Or, in Nigel’s case at least, of how “not to disgrace yourself at a public event, and end up being arrested.”

“But…”

“Behave yourself, Nigel, there is only so many times I can cover for you. That goes for you, too, Tesla.” James warned giving the Vampire an unamused look.

“Since when has my behavior been anything but exemplary?” he remarked with a smirk. “However; fortunately for you, I have no interest in attending. So, as they say, you’re off the hook, Jimmy,” he replied casually, never pausing from his work, his fingers working deftly with inserting the wire.

“You aren’t planning to attend?” she enquired softly. While not surprising in the least, considering his distaste of these type of events, Helen couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that grew in her chest. Something which evidently must have shown on her face, if John’s tightened arm around her waist was any indication.

“It would be a pity to miss the occasion, old boy,” John smiled, but his eyes weren’t friendly as he looked at the Serbian, who appeared decidedly unaffected.

“I am sure you will enjoy yourself, without me,” he replied tersely, placing down the tweezers in favor for another tool, with a decidedly unaffected air.

Helen was not blind to their mutual hatred; ever since they had known each other, it was there. But this was truly getting ridiculous, and John’s jealousy was straining her patience.

Nikola gazed at the two of them, as if sensing her disquiet, but kept blessedly silent on the matter, something that she was both thankful for and strangely discontent with. She brushed those feelings away, for the moment as she pushed out of John’s embrace, gently but firmly, ignoring his sound of protest.

“Gentleman, enough bickering. This is a Laboratory not a school yard.”

“Well said, Helen. Now, Tesla, don’t be a stick in the mud. Besides, who will insult Professor Boyle, and every other professor, while I liberate them of their time pieces and change?” 

“Nigel,” Helen gave him an exasperated look, as she walked towards Nikola’s bench. “Not Helping.”

“What? He’s my partner in crime.”

“Something which is entirely involuntary, on my part,” the partner in crime replied. “Besides, I have work to do.”

“Yes, but surely you can afford one night off,” Helen tried gently, and he fiddled with a piece of metal in his hands until she placed her hand over his to still the motion. He stiffened slightly at the contact, but didn’t move away.

“Nikola…. Please,” she tried again.

“Helen,” he sighed.

“There will be wine?” she smiled encouragingly.

Nikola’s eyes brightened slightly. She had him intrigued. Good.

“And the dancing should be rather excellent,” James commented, observing them with interest.

Helen nodded encouragingly. She had no doubt Nikola would be an excellent dancer, if he ever chose to participate. She wondered why he hadn’t; he loved to show off. And most of the woman wore gloves, so he wouldn’t be touching anyone directly. 

“Dancing?” he asked, his expression giving nothing away. But she could tell something had changed in his demeanor, as his hand slipped from under hers.

“Yes, dancing. Its great fun. You have the waltz, the two step, and….” Nigel paused as the Serbian began to leave. “Tesla?”

“Perhaps another time.”

“Nikola, wait…” she called, again.

“Please, you must excuse me,” he spoke softly, giving her an apologetic look before leaving the room.

“Right, something’s up with him, and more than usual. So, who’s going to poke the Vampire?” Nigel asked, rubbing his hands together. “Any volunteers?”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Helen offered. 

“Great. Because, when I try, he hisses at me.”

“That’s because you take the poking part literally, Nigel.” She rolled her eyes fondly as she began to move, but John caught her arm.

“Maybe you should let him go, darling, he clearly needs time to himself,” John pulled her towards him. “Besides, I thought we were dining out, this evening.”

“I won’t be long.” She stepped away from John with a reassuring smile. “Till two days’ time, gentlemen,” she nodded at the others, then quietly left the room.

While the Oxford grounds were relatively extensive, she knew exactly where she would find her vampire. She just had to follow the pigeons.

Nikola always had a unique fondness for the birds. He had often remarked he liked them more than people. In the case of how foreigners were treated, especially in Oxford, she could see why.

Five minutes later, she found him under the oak tree, pigeons pecking at the grass near his feet. His coat lay draped beside him on the grass, while his cravat was half undone.

He looked utterly irritable and forlorn at the same time, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the tree.

“No need to tread so lightly, Helen, I can hear you regardless,” he remarked as she approached him, his eyes still closed until she stood right before him. He looked up at her enquiringly.

“You could hardly identify me just by ear, there were at least five other people passing by,” she arched a brow at him.

“True, but your scent is hard to come by,” he admitted with a shrug as she sat down beside him. “And yet, somehow, I doubt you came to talk about my heightened senses.”

“No, I didn’t,” Helen nodded with a small smile.

“It’s about the gala, isn’t it?” he sighed, his fingers tapping against his thigh in a hypnotic rhythm.

“Give it a chance, Nikola please, we would all like for you to join us.” She explained, biting her lip slightly, well she wasn’t entirely lying, Nigel did. She just wasn’t too sure about James or John. 

He gave her a look. “Helen, they tolerate me at best. My absence, if anything, would bring them great joy.”

“I want you to be there,” she confessed quietly, watching how his expression was altered from mocking to genuine surprise. It pained her to think he believed otherwise.

“So, if nothing else… come for me,” she whispered earnestly, watching as he contemplated her words, his eyes studying her. “But this time, you will not be standing around drinking them out of wine.”

“What else would I be doing there?” he asked incredulous.

“Dancing, Mr. Tesla, even if I have to pull you into a waltz, myself,” she teased.

“John claimed you for the first dance, and Nigel and James, I am sure, will ask you.” He fiddled with a blade of grass, not meeting her eyes.

“Perhaps,” Helen tilted her head, more than a little bemused by his deflection. “But I am sure there are plenty others who I could dance with, too, if they asked me.”

The last words, caught his attention.

“Helen…. I,” Nikola hesitated, and she touched his shoulder.

“Nikola. Please, tell me, why are you so reluctant to go to this Gala? You have been to other events, before, and never reacted like this.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t expected to dance at those,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.

Everything suddenly clicked into place. His irritability. Walking out of the room. Everything.

He didn’t know how to dance.

And if there was one thing Nikola Tesla hated, it was admitting to not knowing something.

“You never learnt….?” she began gently. 

“No,” he snapped, but she knew none of the anger was directed at her. It was at himself. “I never learnt to do Waltz, or the two step, or any infernal English dance!” He deflated, looking sulky.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, before?”

“I didn’t want you to think less of me,” he admitted, shying away from her.

“Oh, Nikola.” She smiled, cupping his face gently with one hand so he would look at her. “I wouldn’t think less of you because of that, especially when you are so quick at learning.” She smirked, patting his cheek. 

“Hmm,” he murmured distractedly, then gave her a worried look. “Wait, quick at learning? Helen…” He drawled. “You’re not seriously considering….”

“Oh, yes I am,” she nodded her eyes sparkling. “You don’t know how to dance, and I can teach you. I’d say it’s a fair compromise.”

“But we have, what…. two days?” he asked, amused, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Three, if we include today.”

“My my, someone’s ambitious,” he teased, and she swatted his arm, her hand slipping from his face.

“How is it you make anything sound scandalous.” She gave him a look as he grinned. “Now, be serious. If I can teach you within the time, will you go?”

Nikola nodded and she gave him a brilliant smile.

“Really?”

“If I must,” he relented with a sigh as he stood up.

“Oh, don’t sound so melodramatic. It’s a night of harmless dancing, not torture,” she retorted playfully, accepting his offered hand.

“Speak for yourself darling. Although, as long as I get to dance with you, I think I shall manage to survive the evening,” he mused, as he swiftly pulled her to her feet.

Helen felt her cheeks grow warm at his gallant statement, her hand quickly slipping from his. “I am sure the wine will serve you just as well, in that respect, from the way you raid my father’s cellar.” 

“Helen, that’s not a cellar, it is a Wine Museum. There was wine in there that was so covered in dust I had to dig it out.”

She laughed as he picked up his jacket, and proceeded to brush it free of leaves and grass.

“Father appreciates letting wine age,” she explained with a smile.

“No, he appreciates letting lovely Bordeaux age its way into expensive vinegar.”

“You’re truly still not over that, are you?”

“Not even remotely. So when do you propose we start?” Nikola turned to find John and James in the distance. “Oh, look. Here comes tall and angry, with his sidekick, Scotland yard,” he muttered.

“I must have been out longer than I anticipated.” Helen bit her lip, ignoring his remark.

“Tell me, does Druitt always make a note of glaring at other gentleman who are seen in your presence, or just me?”

“We are hardly doing anything improper, Nikola. He’s just not very fond of you,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Likewise. However; it seems to be a common theme with the men in your life,” he observed dryly. “They all detest me. What are you going to tell him by the way?”

“Who John?” Her insides tightened with apprehension at the complications.

“No Charles Darwin.” Nikola mocked. “Yes John.”

She had forgotten about that. John would no doubt try and prevent her if she told him. And there was no reputable explanation that could justify why he shouldn’t. They were courting, after all. But it was perfectly innocent. Surely she shouldn’t require an explanation to spend time with a dear friend if she chose to do so?

“Actually…” Helen breathed, trying to ignore the thrill of excitement at the act of rebellion. “I’m not.”

“Come again?” He blinked.

“I’m not going to tell him. John is taking me at four and I should be back at six, meet me at half past at the back door.”

“What about your father?” Nikola whispered.

“He’s away on business, and won’t be back until next week,” Helen replied.

“Right…”

“Why are you smirking?” Helen narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, now it really sounds scandalous, and I didn’t even say a thing.” He gave her a devilish smile.

She gave him a pointed look as the two gentlemen approached.

 _Dear god, what have I gotten myself into_ , she thought.

_Later that evening_

John had unfortunately canceled their arrangement due to some matter that had arisen. He was rather vague in expressing the particulars, but considering her own concealment of certain things – pertaining to meeting a certain Serbian Vampire, unchaperoned – she didn’t press him for information. Although his behavior had become slightly distant and cold, which saddened her.

At six-thirty, she crept to the back door and opened it, quietly. While her father wouldn’t catch her letting him in, the maids might. Hence why she would be taking them to her father’s private study, they would be less likely to snoop around there, and it was on the other side of the maids’ quarters.

“Nikola?” she whispered into the darkness, her eyes scanning the shadows.

“You called?” he replied, from above. “She could just make out his form, sitting casually on the ledge of the high wall that surrounded the gardens.”

“Nikola, what are you doing up there?” she exclaimed incredulously.

“I was waiting, and it gave me a nice vantage point.” He jumped down effortlessly, like a cat, and stalked towards her, leaning against the doorway.

“Of what, may I ask?” she enquired curiously.

“The stars, mainly,” he gave a casual shrug.

“You didn’t try to count them, I hope?” she asked slyly.

Nikola gave her a disapproving look. “Hilarious, but no.”

“Ah, such restraint,” she teased.

“Quite,” he glanced at her, appreciatively. “Divno izgledaš Helen.” He breathed, switching to his native tongue, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” he replied with a smile. “I just hope Johnny appreciated your efforts.”

“Actually, John had to cancel just before. So no, he didn’t,” she admitted ruefully, and Nikola eyed her in surprise.

“For what, a family reunion?” he exclaimed.

“He didn’t really tell me the specifics,” she laughed.

“Well, look on the bright side. Now you both have secret rendezvous.” Nikola’s eyes gleamed, amused. “Although, personally, I think yours shall be far more interesting, as Johnny has the creativity of a boiled potato.”

“Nikola, stop insulting John and get in here,” Helen sighed fondly, despite herself, and he did as she commanded. “Also, keep your voice down.”

“I thought your father wasn’t here?” he whispered.

“He isn’t, but the maids are, and they’re prone to gossip.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Shall we?” She gestured to the hall.

“Lead the way.” He grinned as he followed her quietly through the house, and into her father’s study, closing the door behind them.

“Should we lock it, or are we safe from the gossiping fiends with feather dusters?”

“No, we won’t be disturbed. The maids never come in here unless my father is home, or during the morning, to dust.”

He nodded. “So, which dance first?” Nikola draped his jacket over a chair. While Helen set up the gramophone.

“I think we shall start with the waltz,” she called over her shoulder. “With your obsession with the number three, you should enjoy it.”

“Be still my heart,” he replied, as music began to play softly in the background, and she beckoned him to join her in the center of the room.

Nikola wandered closer, looking at her expectantly.

“Now, place your right hand in mine,” she commanded and he did what she asked. “And then place your left on my waist.” She gently guided his hand onto the soft curve of her waist, watching him swallow with apprehension. 

“Right and... Ah… what comes after that?” He cleared his throat, making her smirk. She had never seen him so shy. It was utterly adorable.

“The beat is in threes. You step your left foot forward, and then your right foot to the side, then do the same backwards. Typically the male leads, so I will be following your cue, but if you don’t object, I can lead? Just so you get used to the steps.” She added hastily, when he didn’t respond immediately.

“You’re the teacher, why would I have any reason to object?” He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her curiously.

“I’d say because it’s unconventional, but I forgot you rarely share that sentiment,” Helen admitted dryly.

“Of course not. I’m not British,” he teased, and Helen slapped his chest, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Insufferable,” she murmured, then softened. “Are you ready?”

He nodded nervously as she began to take him into the beginnings of the waltz. Her steps were slower than normal, so he could get used to the footwork.

Unsurprisingly, it took him only a short period of time before he comprehended the steps, and could follow her without stumbling. However; his movements were entirely too calculated and he seemed to have an issue with their proximity. He tensed, every time she stepped closer, his eyes never quiet meeting hers until the dance came to an end.

“Good. But, next time, try not to count our steps as we make them. You’ll scare off your dance partner with the intensity of your concentration,” she reprimanded him lightly. 

“Our steps are in threes, how can I not?” he exclaimed.

“You know the steps, you shouldn’t have to….,” Helen paused as she noticed the silky material around his neck. “In fact….”

“Helen?”

“Take off your cravat,” she commanded gently.

“Why?” he gave her a suspicious look.

“Because I don’t have a scarf on hand, and it’s a suitable length for the purpose we need it for,” she replied vaguely.

“Yes, well I found it was a suitable length for the purpose it’s currently serving, as a cravat.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nikola, don’t be difficult. It will help you, I promise,” she added earnestly.

“I fail to see how,” he retorted, his long fingers making short work of the knot around his neck, the silky black material limp in his hands as he offered it to her. “There, happy?”

“Much, thank you.” She smiled sweetly, taking it into her hands and extending it to its full length. Nikola was not going to learn properly if he continued to overthink, and this was a rather perfect distraction.

“And what do you plan to do with that, blindfold me?” he smirked.

“Yes, now hold still.” She drew closer to him and swiftly draped the material over his eyes, her fingers wrapping it gently around his head.

“Wait. Helen, I was kidding.” Nikola breathed, grabbing onto her arms gently, but he didn’t stop her movements as she tied it into a knot.

“And I wasn’t,” she laughed softly, and he pouted.

“I will untie it eventually, don’t worry,” Helen reassured him, as she went to reset the gramophone before coming back to him. “But, for now, just concentrate on my movements and the music,” she explained as they took the proper holds. His hand resting tentatively on her waist, while hers found his shoulder and clasped his hand. 

“Yes but, Helen, I can hear the music… I can’t see your movements.” He pointed out, his apprehension palpable.

“Exactly, you have to feel when I move. When I pull towards you.” His Adams apple bobbed nervously as she drew closer, making him step back. “And when I pull away,” she whispered, drawing the Vampire forwards. For a brief moment, she could feel the heat of his body brush against hers. “Dancing is just as much about feeling as it is about precision.”

It was a little rather slow, at first, but soon Nikola relaxed into the dance, moving perfectly in time with her as she led him in wider circles around the room. His movements were so smooth and graceful, she almost forgot he was blindfolded, let alone that he hadn’t learnt the waltz, before.

“You’re doing remarkably well,” she observed. “If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn you deceived me about not knowing how to dance.” Helen directed them back to the center of the room.

“Well, like you said, I’m a fast learner.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Indeed you are,” she agreed as the last threads of the song played, and they swayed together, closer than was strictly proper for this dance. But she couldn’t find it within herself to care. He was here, with her. It felt like the old times. They used to stay up at long hours of the night, studying or her reading to him some literary work. Occasionally, he would read and, she used to use his shoulder as a pillow.

But times were different, now. John had grown closer, while Nikola…. Helen stroked his lapel. He had moved further away. 

“Helen,” he called gently, stirring her from her thoughts. The black material was like a curtain between them.

“Hmm, yes?”

“The music’s stopped,” he whispered.

“So it has,” she replied, yet she made no move to leave.

“I’m guessing that means I have to let you go, now?” he asked, his smile touched with a sadness that made her heart ache.

“I didn’t say that,” she answered.

“Hmm, it almost sounds like you _enjoy_ dancing with me.”

“I didn’t say that, either,” Helen smiled, placing her hand on his chest. “We still have to see if you can lead,” she teased.

He scoffed.

“However; I don’t think we need this anymore,” she murmured, her hands slipping around his head to undo the makeshift blindfold. She could feel him inhale sharply as her fingers grazed his neck, as the material slid away from him. Her eyes locked with his.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke quietly as they swayed.

“And what have you done to be sorry for, aside from counting our steps?” she enquired, bemused.

“For never being the one to ask you to dance,” he admitted tentatively, his eyes slipping downwards. 

“Ah, a great offence, indeed.” She nodded, lifting his chin so they were eye level, her thumb stroking his jaw. “Care to remedy that, Mr. Tesla?” She arched an eyebrow at him, still holding the cravat in her hand.

“Absolutely,” he grinned, then cleared his throat. “May I have this dance, Miss Magnus?” he asked softly, offering her his hand.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled, as he led her into a waltz.


End file.
